Windows
by Checkered Brooke
Summary: Maka always thought she lived a perfectly normal life—until a mysterious boy with striped hair moved in next door. AU, KiMa. Threeshot.
1. Chapter 1

**Fair warning: This story is a tragedy. No more happy-go-lucky after this chapter. [:(]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any other works/brands mentioned.**

* * *

"So someone finally bought that house next door?"

"One of my old college buddies, at that."

"Well, I hope they're nice," Maka mused, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"I bet you and his son will get along," Spirit sang, dancing around the kitchen.

"So you go completely mad whenever I go out with Soul, but you're teasing me about a boy I've never met?"

Late the next day—right before dinnertime, actually—Maka opened her bedroom window to sneak a peek at the moving van in the driveway of the house next door.

She frowned when she couldn't catch a glimpse of anyone but the people hauling furniture into the place.

She was about to retreat back inside her room when a boy who looked to be around her age stepped outside. Intrigued, she watched him instruct the movers.

Suddenly, he turned and looked up—directly at her. She flushed red (_I must look like a total creep!_) and closed her window.

He watched it for a few seconds, a bemused look sitting on his face before he sighed softly and returned to his task at hand.

Maka leaned against her wall, attempting to make a judgment on her new neighbor based on only what she saw.

_He had stripes in his hair—he's not going through _that _kind of phase, is he?_

_Well, he wasn't wearing those glasses with the huge frames and I didn't see a Starbucks in his hand—oh well. It's not like I _have _to socialize with him. Just a friendly _"hi" _if we cross paths, and—_

She pulled herself out of her train of thought when she noticed boxes being moved into the room visible from her window—directly across it, at that.

Then, the boy she'd been fretting about entered and started rummaging through one of the boxes. He pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of something, pocketing it and then standing.

_Oh god, is he a druggie?_

Maka apparently caught his eye, because he turned to face her—he approached the window and opened it, motioning for her to do the same.

She did.

"Hello!" He smiled brightly and waved, and she dropped all misconceptions she'd had. "You're Spirit's daughter, then?"

"Y-yeah—I'm Maka."

"Death the Kidd. I'd shake your hand, but I don't want to risk falling to my death." He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"It's nice to meet you," she called across the gap between the houses.

"The pleasure's all mine!" He grinned. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to help with moving in!"

They both waved a goodbye, but the windows were left open.

Maka hummed to herself, settling back down in her bean bag chair and resuming her reading session.

* * *

The next day, she was rudely interrupted from _Ender's Game _as a rock hit her window.

Irritated, she ignored it.

After the fourth hit, she slammed the book shut and stalked over to her window, throwing it open.

"Hey, Maka! Catch!"

She didn't have the faintest clue of what she'd be catching or if it was already in the air, so she immediately thrust her arms out of the window in anticipation.

A tin can landed in her hands.

"_This _is what you interrupt my book for? A _can_?" She yelled.

But then something pulled it and she almost dropped it, and then she finally noticed that Kidd held one as well and there was a string connecting the two.

He moved his to his mouth and she instinctively held hers up to her ear.

"Better? Now we don't have to yell."

Although she didn't want to admit it, he was right—and he'd gone about that small issue in a fun way.

"Why didn't we just swap phone numbers or something?" She placed her free hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow.

"Because this is more fun."

She sighed. "Fair enough."

"I can see you've got quite the bookshelf in there. An avid reader, are you?"

"I guess you could say that…what about you?"

"I'd have to be guilty of that as well."

She smiled. _Maybe this guy isn't so bad. _"I'd love to stay and chat—" she copied his phrase from earlier, "—but I have a date I've got to get ready for. I'll talk to you later!"

* * *

Maka's date with Soul went off without a hitch, and she arrived back home closer to midnight than she liked.

She kicked her heels off and trudged upstairs, all but collapsing on her bed once she found her room.

She laid there for a few minutes before forcing herself back up so that she could change out of her dress.

Flipping the light on, she went to shut the blinds on her window when she saw Kidd measuring and making marks on his wall.

_What on Earth is he doing…?_

After she sighed, shook her head, and closed the blinds, she quickly slipped out of her dress and pulled on a pair of pajamas.

Glad to be in comfortable clothes at last, she decided to do some reading before she went to bed.

At least, that's what she intended to do.

When she heard a muffled "_Damnit!" _from who could only be Kidd, she yanked down on the cord that dangled near her head, and then opened the window.

He appeared to be re-measuring the height of the same wall over and over, and grew more and more upset when he came out with the same number each time.

Maka waved to try and get his attention, but he was too focused on the measuring tape that kept reeling back up each time he grew frustrated and set it down.

"Kidd!" she whisper-yelled—she didn't want to wake Spirit, after all—in an attempt to distract him.

It worked; he stopped his small little tantrum and whipped around to face his window. Upon seeing Maka, he blushed and went over to his window.

"…sorry," he said. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I just got home. What the hell are you _doing?_"

"Checking the lengths and heights of the walls." He shot a glare at the one behind him. "Nine feet tall…why couldn't it have been eight?"

"Um…why does it need to be eight?"

His right eye twitched.

"Because eight is the perfect number."

"…Why's that?"

"Because it's amazingly symmetrical."

"What makes that so special?"

". . ."

"…Sorry. Sensitive subject?"

"Symmetry is beauty. Symmetry is life. Life needs balance, and symmetry is just that. Everything needs symmetry."

"I see." She elected to not mention his stripes.

"…You look tired. Go to bed. It's a weeknight, isn't it?"

She grimaced. "Yeah. I guess I'll do that, then. 'Night."

"Goodnight."

And then the windows shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, the two had grown exceptionally close. They'd talk every day—it started at five and could sometimes stretch until midnight.

Kidd was very prone to colds, Maka noticed. Several times he'd had a bad cough, and she sometimes caught him taking medicine for it.

She shrugged it off, though. Some people just got sick easily.

* * *

One day she was late to their meeting—when she finally entered her room nearing six o'clock, her eyes were red and she gave out an aura that clearly stated "not in the mood".

"Are you alright?" Kidd asked.

"I'm fine," she spat.

He sighed. She'd tell him eventually.

Whatever had been bothering her was soon forgotten, as Kidd did his best to cheer her up and distract her.

The conversation switched to a serious topic not long after, though; when he had another coughing fit, Maka let her curiosity get the better of her.

"You get sick a lot," she said.

Again, he sighed. "I don't get sick _a lot._ I've been sick for a while. Sometimes it acts up and sometimes it doesn't." He shrugged, and she frowned.

"Is that what your medicine is for, then?"

"Kind of. That's just to help with the coughing."

"Oh."

"It's also kind of the reason we moved here—it's a lot closer to the hospital I go to for check-ups."

_Just check-ups, right? _ she wanted to ask, but, fearing a negative response, she kept quiet.

"Don't worry about it," he added hastily. "It's not too serious."

"If you say so…"

"I say so."

"Then let's talk about something else."

* * *

Another few weeks and Kidd's checkups increased in frequency—he went at least once at least every three days.

He assured Maka it was just so that they could keep a closer eye on him.

She didn't believe him.

But, she rationalized, if it was getting really bad, he'd either tell her or she'd notice.

So it'd be okay.

She threw open her window, waving her arm high up above her head.

"Hi!"

Across from her, Kidd did the same; a light smile adorned his face, and he pulled a chair over so that he could sit comfortably.

"How was your day?" He asked, almost leaning out of the window.

"It was great! I finally beat Ox in test scores—no more of those stupid ties! You should've seen the look on his face!"

His smile broke into a grin, and he rested his chin in his hands. "Oh really, now?"

"Really! It felt _amazing _seeing him get his paper back and this worried expression pop onto his face—I could _smell _his despair!"

"Getting a little sadistic there, Maka…"

She giggled. "Sorry! How was _your _day?"

Kidd shrugged, blowing air out of his lips before spinning around in his desk chair. "I just kind of lazed around and read today."

"You didn't have to go to the hospital or anything?"

"Uh-uh." Although there'd been plenty days where he'd been perfectly fine, Maka could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Maybe he was getting better.

But then she saw his eyes water, and his eyebrows scrunch up—like he was trying to hold something back.

Eventually, though, he caved; brought his elbow to his mouth and coughed. He coughed and he coughed and Maka couldn't bear to watch.

But she had to, to make sure he would be okay.

She flinched visibly when she saw the red dots speckling his white sleeve, and she wanted to fly across the gap between their houses and hug him tight when he gasped for breath afterward.

"Are you okay?!" she yelled, bending over the sill to better gauge his response.

"I'm fine," he wheezed. "That's nothing."

She couldn't help but overthink his statement—_if that was nothing, then what's something?_—and she plopped back down on her chair with a sigh of contempt.

"I hate that you're sick."

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to meet you, now then, wouldn't I?"

He turned and grinned at her, and she quickly averted her eyes.

"There's blood on your teeth."

* * *

His fits became more and more frequent, and more and more often did his father have to take him away.

It was only when she heard the wailing siren of an ambulance in the middle of the night did she finally admit to herself that something was seriously wrong.

He'd never had anything bad during the night.

If it really was so bad that he was forced to the hospital, she decided, then she wasn't going to sit around while he could be—god forbid—_dying_.

_He'll be fine,_ she told herself as she laced up her shoes.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she crept down the stairs.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she locked the door behind her.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she jogged down the street.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she stepped through the automatic doors.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she asked to see him.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she was led to his room.

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as the door creaked open.

_He won't be fine, _she realized, as she took in his appearance.

He lay on the hospital bed in a hospital gown, with hospital machinery hooked onto him in places Maka really didn't think was necessary.

Maka hated hospitals.

His skin seemed ashier than usual, and his cheekbones were thinner than before. Dark spots rested underneath his eyes and he breathed into a nebulizer that was attached to his nose.

He looked _fragile_.

The nurse opted to exit the room, leaving the two teens alone.

Cautiously, Maka approached the bedside and knelt down on the ground.

"Kidd?" She was surprised when her voice cracked, and when she realized she was crying, she rested her forehead on the mattress. "Please, Kidd…"

She remained like that for a few minutes, listening to the steady beep of the heartbeat sensor.

Steady.

Good.

She'd almost fallen asleep when she felt a hand in her hair.

Kidd's hand.

"It's really soft," he mused, holding eye contact with the ceiling. "Just like I thought it'd be."

She gasped and her head snapped up. "Kidd!"

His hand slid down her head and rested on the back of her neck. He turned to look at her.

"I'm going to die," said Kidd. His lips were pale, and when he spoke, he drew attention to them.

"Don't say that, Kidd…you can get better…you _will _get better, or I'll beat the crap out of you in the afterlife." She sniffed.

"They told me it was terminal weeks ago. It's a miracle I'm not dead _yet_." He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows to face Maka. "Thank you, really, for being such a good friend."

"That sounds like a goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye."

"We all have to at some point."

"Not yet! You're too young! You've got your whole life ahead of you!"

He swallowed. "I know. It's not something I can help. The doctors did all they could."

"I don't want you to die…"

"And I don't want to die."

"Then live."

He chuckled hoarsely. "Maka, this is beyond my control. I took all the medicine I was supposed to, ate all the food I was supposed to—all I was able to do was slow it down."

"…I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too."

"Why did it have to be like this? What am I supposed to do when you're gone?"

"Do what you did before I came along."

"What, cry over a missed question on a test? Get called 'tiny-tits' ten times a day? Sit in my room and stare at the empty house next door, wondering if I'll get a new neighbor? I don't want to! I want to be with you! I want to go to school with you, and go to silly school festivals with you, and graduate with you and get a job with you supporting me all the way and I want to move in together, I want to _be with you! _I love you, Kidd! I want you to ask me to marry you and I want my dad to freak out and threaten to kill you and I want us to have a wedding in France and I want all the girls to be jealous because I've got the best guy in the world—"

"Maka."

"_What?_" She looked up from her rant, her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes red and puffy.

"I love you too. I did from the first moment I saw you. Give me your hand."

She held up her right hand and he shook his head. "Your left hand."

He wrestled the ring off of his right hand and slid it onto her left.

"I want you to have this."

"What about symmet—"

"I don't give a damn about symmetry right now, Maka. We're having a wedding. It might not be in France, but it's the best I can do at the moment."

Her eyes watered again and it took all her strength to not cry.

"Maka Albarn," he brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, "do you take Death the Kidd to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

She choked back a sob. "I do."

He waited until she'd composed herself:

"A-and do you, Death the Kidd, take Maka Albarn to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

And then they leaned into each other and they kissed—it was a kiss full of longing, and hope; at the same time, it screamed of despair and defeat.

It was mostly acceptance.

They accepted each other, and they accepted the fact that they'd be separated.

They accepted death.

Moments after they'd broken apart, Kidd's father entered the room. He cast his gaze upon Maka before sighing.

"Could you step out for a moment? I won't be long."

She nodded, rose to her feet, and exited the room.

"So that's her? The girl who lives next door?"

Kidd nodded. "Maka."

"…One of your rings is missing. Shouldn't you be having an OCD attack right about now?"

He laughed. "I was pretty damn close when I took it off, but there are reasons behind it that are more important."

"It was on her left ring finger."

"My point."

"Kiddo…" His father heaved a sigh and pulled over a chair. "You did good."

"Not to toot my own horn, but I know."

"You don't have to act so strong, you know."

"I have to. For her. I won't let her think that I regretted anything. Because I don't."

"Just because you have no regrets doesn't mean you have to accept your fate so easily."

"I accepted my fate a long time ago. It wasn't easy then. I always had this feeling I wouldn't make it, and I came to terms with that before the doctors did."

"Kidd, do you have the faintest clue how much impact you've had on that poor girl's life?"

"She told me she loved me, so I'm going to say a lot."

"She broke up with her boyfriend because he kept accusing her of cheating whenever she'd go to talk to you. She chose you over him before she knew she loved you."

Kidd looked at his lap.

"She hasn't gone out with her friends in weeks, because she was afraid it'd overlap with your meetings."

He grit his teeth and gripped the sheet.

"For god's sake, Kidd, she hasn't eaten dinner with her father in months because it conflicted with your talk time!"

His hands trembled and he blinked ferociously, holding back tears.

"I—I didn't want her to shut everything else out—but how could I say that to her?! I was doing the exact same thing! I was supposed to come in every time it acted up but I didn't because I was in the middle of a conversation with her and I didn't want her to worry!"

"Kiddo—"

"I did the _exact _same thing, s-so who am I to judge?" He laughed bitterly, wiping away the water dripping from his eyes. "But I don't regret it. I don't regret spending every moment I could with her."

"Her father was so worried about her. And I was—am—worried about you."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Kiddo. You love her."

"I do."

His father sighed and stood up, ruffling Kidd's hair before walking towards the door. "I'll be back during the daytime. You might want to wipe your eyes before I send her back in, if you plan on keeping up that strong façade."

He nodded and his father left.

When Kidd's father came into the hall and nodded towards the door, Maka pushed herself to her feet and reentered the room.

She sat on the chair that was now placed beside the bed, and reached out to hold her 'husband's' hand.

"You know, I don't think my dad would try and kill you."

"Really, now?" He smiled fondly, giving her hand a small squeeze. "I don't think he'd very much like the fact that I didn't ask his permission before marrying you."

She laughed. "I'm sure he can forgive you for that. If he doesn't, I'll set him straight."

"I'll be counting on that, then."

It was silent, save for the machinery.

"Maka, would you tell me what time it is?"

"…Almost six thirty in the morning."

"Your father will be waking up soon. You snuck out, didn't you?"

"…Yeah." Her chinks tinted pink and she stared at her knees.

"Go home. Come back later. You need to at least tell him you'll be in and out."

"But what if—"

"I'll wait for you."

"…Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Three days passed, and Kidd's condition steadily worsened.

Maka didn't attend school. Instead, she spent the entirety of her day at the hospital; she visited him as much as she could.

On the fourth day, he'd been moved to the intensive care unit.

He didn't have much time left.

Maka realized this as she saw the empty room and a note left for her in shaky, sloppy writing.

She walked as fast as she could down the halls that twisted and turned before she found him.

He looked terrible.

His hair was dulled (it no longer held the striking vibrancy she'd come to love, and his stripes didn't stand out in stark contrast anymore; rather, they seemed to blend into the rest of his hair.) and he was unhealthily thin. His eyes lay closed and his frail hands rested, folded, on top of his chest.

_Like porcelain_, she thought. _As fragile as a vase._

"Is this it, then?" she asked, studying his face.

His eyes opened and she was upset that the disease had taken away the shine in those, too.

"I guess so," he mused. "Can I hold your hand?"

She nodded and entwined their fingers together, before resting her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

His other hand then moved to the top of her head and tangled itself in her hair.

"I'm glad you came sooner than later." His breaths were shallow. "I don't know how long I could've lasted."

Quiet tears leaked out of her eyes and stained the hospital gown.

"You're the most symmetrical, beautiful person I've ever met, Maka."

She hiccupped and stifled a sob.

"You're smart and strong and you're kind and caring even to people who are mean to you."

His heart rate was slowing.

"Which is why…you'll be okay."

"I'm not worried about me, stupid!"

He exhaled through his nose with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Maka."

"I love you too, Kidd…"

"Don't…keep things bottled up. Come and…talk to me sometimes…okay?"

"Okay." Her voice betrayed her—it wavered and cracked.

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but instead exhaled and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed to a stop, and the monitor beside the bed flatlined.

"K-Kidd?"

He was dead.

"Kidd!"

Nurses rushed in, checking the equipment and prodding his lifeless body.

"_Kidd!" _

Tears streamed freely down her face and she lifted his head, trying to get some kind of a response.

"**_KIDD!_**"

* * *

Two weeks passed, and she still hadn't left her room. Spirit brought her meals to her and tried to get her to talk to him, but to no avail.

"Maka," he called gently one day, knocking on her door. "Your friends are here to see you."

"I don't want to see anyone right now."

"They're worried, Maka. We all are."

"I just need to be alone."

"Would Kidd want that?"

"_Don't you even dare._"

She threw the door open, livid, to come toe to toe with her father. She heard the muffled voices of her friends downstairs, but didn't care.

"Maka—"

"'_Maka_' what?! Are you going to lecture me for being sad?!" She held up her hand, shoving her ringed finger in his face. Her teeth clenched and she prepared to yell again, but instead fell to her knees, gripping her dad's shirt.

"Papa," she said weakly, tugging him down as well. "He wanted to ask you permission first, but there wasn't any time…"

"I know, sweetheart. I know." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

She cracked.

Maka screamed and cried herself to sleep. Spirit carefully tucked her in, adding an old stuffed animal for good measure.

"He wouldn't want you to be sad, Maka," he murmured, lightly ruffling her hair before exiting the room.

* * *

It was another two weeks before she started going to school again.

She didn't reach out to her friends much, or really ever participate in anything. That was fine, though—they initiated socialization with her ten times as much as they used to. They did their best to keep her distracted. Keep her happy.

And it worked. Maka began looking at the bright side again, and decided that breaking down every time she thought of Kidd was practically the same as disgracing his memory.

So she smiled when she thought of him; she smiled when she looked out her window and saw his, and she grinned ear to ear whenever she looked at the ring that she never took off.

But something didn't feel right, she noticed on a Saturday evening while reading.

Her chest felt tight, and it was difficult to breathe.

So she did what any other person would do: she coughed.

Once her small episode had ended, she pulled away from her elbow.

And she dropped her book when she saw the red dots speckling her sleeve.

Blood.

She wasn't sure what to feel.

After a minute or two of contemplation, she looked at her ring and then up at her ceiling. She smiled.

"Getting a little impatient up there, are we, Kidd?"

* * *

She finally understood how Kidd was able to stay so calm, as she turned her head to stare at the white wall.

There wasn't anything she could do, so why worry?

The heartbreaking thing was the looks on the faces of the people closest to her.

Her Papa the most.

He'd cried. Not silent tears like her friends, but outright sobbing.

He reminded her of herself.

"Is this it, then?"

The voice startled her, and she winced at the sharp intake of breath she took.

In the doorway stood Kidd.

"…I guess so." She smiled sadly. "Let me hold your hand."

He strode over and clasped her hand between both of his, resting his forehead on them. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Getting you sick."

"I forgive you."

"I'm glad you managed to be happy again, as short-lived as it was."

"Yeah…Kidd?"

"Hm?"

"Will you stay here…with me? Until…you know…"

"Of course."

"I...I'm tired, Kidd…"

"Go to sleep, then. It doesn't hurt."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

Her eyelids slid closed and he leaned over, lightly kissing her forehead.

The nurses came in soon after.


End file.
